


Enough is damn well enough

by macabre_monkey



Category: The Last Herald Mage, Valdemar Series - Mercedes Lackey
Genre: Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Overworking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-22
Updated: 2012-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-05 20:26:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/410665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macabre_monkey/pseuds/macabre_monkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Van is overworking as usual, Stef intervenes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough is damn well enough

Stefen glanced up from where he was curled up on the sofa, eyeing Vanyel from under his lashes. It was just after midnight, and Stefen had arranged for both of them to have minimal duties for the next couple of days; gods knew they deserved it, but Vanyel seemed determined to continue working himself into the ground. He was seated at the desk, pouring over the latest draft of that damn trade agreement with Rethwellen, and Stefen watched as he absentmindedly reached for his mug of tea and took a swallow, grimacing when he realized it was cold. He knocked the rest of it back anyway and rubbed his eyes before refocusing, or attempting to, anyway, on the document. Stefen knew damn good and well that he had read the same paragraph three times already, and the words were starting to blur together in a nonsensical jumble. He could feel the echoing jab of a headache beginning right between his eyes, as they started to water and burn with the strain of reading for too long in candlelight.

Enough was damn well enough.

“Bedtime,” he announced, stretching his legs.

“Goodnight,” Van murmured absently, now using his finger to trace the lines, like a child first learning to read.

Stefen huffed in fond exasperation. “ _Your_ bedtime.”

Van finally looked up, but didn’t say anything, face blank, as if his mind was so worn out it couldn’t even understand simple language anymore. 

Stef stood up, and as he approached the desk, he repeated, “You. Bed. Now.” He reached for the sheaf of papers, and good gods, the scribe who’d made this copy should be strung up by his balls for writing the words so small; there was saving paper, and there was being a sadist. He opened the drawer, slid them inside, slammed it shut and crossed his arms. Van stared up at him, not really protesting, but wanting to, Stefen could tell.

“I’m working,” he said.

“You _were_ working. Now, you are going to bed,” Stefen explained patiently. Vanyel sighed and gave up the fight.


End file.
